a fine mock battle between the Coffacks; and I faw three Calmoucks, the ugliest fierceft looking men imaginable, with their eyes fet in their head, inclining down to their nofe, and uncommonly fquare jaw-bonesThefe Calmoucks are fo dexterous with bows and arrows, that one killed a goofe at a hundred paces, and the other broke an egg at fifty- -The young Coffack officers tried their fkill with them, but they were perfectly novices in comparifon to them-they fung and danced, but their fteps and their tones were equally infipid, void of grace and harmony. When a Coffack is fick he drinks four milk for a few days, and that is the only remedy the Coffacks have for fevers. Batcheferai is fituated in fo fteep a valley, that fome of the hanging pieces of rock feem ready to fall and crush the houses -About a mile from the town on the left, I faw a troop of well-dreffed Tartars, there were above a hundred on horfeback; the KaimaKan * was at the head of this company, who were come out to meet and efcort us, but I who did not know this, afked the Governor if there was a Ruffian poft here; which there is above the town, of a thoufand men There are five thoufand Tartar inhabitants here; I do not believe there was a man left in his houfe, the streets being lined with Tartarian men on each fide; their countenançes were very fingular, most of them kept their eyes fixed on the ground, as we paffed; but fome juft look ed up, and, as if they were afraid of feeing a woman's face uncovered, haftily caft their eyes downward again; fome diverted at the novelty, looked and laughed very much. The Khan's palace is an irregular, building, the greateft part of it is one floor raifed upon pillars of wood painted and gilt in a fanciful and lively manner--the arch, or laft-door way, has fine proportions, a large infcription in gilt letters is the chief ornamentI am told it was perfectly in ruins, but the governor has had it repaired, new gilt and painted for the Emprefs's reception- Court within court, and garden within garden, make a variety of apartments where the Khan walked from his own refidence to the Haremt, which is fpacious and higher than the other buildings-What I thought pretty enough was, that seve, ral of the fquare places under his apartment were paved with marble, and have in the center fountains which play conftantly I never faw fuch a variety of colours-different coloured gold and filver mixed together The KaimaKan, and two other principal Tartars, fupped with us, and I find nothing can exceed the ignorance and fimplicity of thefe people-The Kaima-Kan is the Khan's first minifter. He is totally gnorant of the geography of his own country; and fays that England and Petersburgh are the fame thing. Sevastopole, April 12, 1786. I must not forget to tell you that I went, as I told you I fhould, to ding with the Kaima-Kan's fifter, whofe harem, with her husband's house, is fituated in a very romantic manner at the foot of fome very extraordinary rocks, from which iffue many clear fprings, that fupply the houfes and her bath with perpetual fresh water; there That word means the Khan's firft minifter-a perfon called him Cream of Tartar-which I fearing he should be told of, turned into the cream of Tartars -which he faid was no wonder; as he was fo Harem means that apartment where the women refide; which is always a feparate building from that which the mafter inhabits--and fifters, mothers, wives, or mifireffes all inhabit the Harem-→→→ pr is a strange appearance on the fummit of thofe rocks, places where immenfe cables have certainly paffed and been tied-The Tartarians infift upon it that the fea once lay at the foot of them and ships were faftened to them We dined in the hufband's apart ment, a very dirty fhabby place for fo rich a gentleman-Tartarian cookery confifts in much greafe and honey -After dinner, the Kaima-Kan walked across a yard and I was bid to follow. I did fo into another court, where four women and fome young girls met us, and laft of all nis fifterher drefs was magnificent, particularly her girdle, in the front of which were two circles like bracelet lockets; the centers of them contained two fine emeralds – She offered me a large goblet which held two quarts of fherbet, an indifferent kind of lemonade... after that coffee, and last of all fweet-We converfed very well by figns, the was neither old nor ugly; but how is it poffible to judge of a countenance hid under bad painting, and eye-b brows which join into one ftraight line drawn across the nofe My gloves gave her the fame uneafy appearance I had feen in the other Tartarian woman, fo 1 pulled them off, but the was not fo curious as the other, and it seemed to be a high entertainment to her brother to fee us converfe by figns. I wore a chemife with two rows of very fine lace at the bofom, which I thought would surprise her, but lace, and every magnificence which is not gold, filver, pearl, or diamonds, I am told paffes unnoticed meats Linen is not much in ufe; their fhifts, and the fhirts of the men, are generally made of very thin filk, or filk mixed with cotton, which is feldom changed; but the very frequent ufe of baths makes this cuftom lefs loathfome than it would otherwife be-When fhe had quitted the harem, her brother ftaid behind a little, and afterwards came up to me, kiffed the bottom of my gown, and prefented me a very beau tiful handkerchief of his fifter's em broidery, which the governor told me I must accept---I defired the KaimaKan to thank her, and tell her I would keep it for her fake.It is of muflin, the borders embroidered with different coloured filks and gold, and what I cannot comprehend, both fides are the fame I should be glad you could fee this place-From the fingularity of the coaft, the harbour is unlike any other I ever faw; it is a long creek that is formed by the Black Sea between two ridges of land, fo high that The Glory of Catherine, one of the largest ships in the Ruffian navy, which is at anchor here, cannot be feen, as the fhore is above the pendant-The water is fo deep that this fhip touches the land All the fleets in Europe would be fafe from ftorms or enemies in thefe creeks or harbours, for there are many. Batteries at the entrance of them, on one fide, would be fufficient effec tually to deftroy any fhips that would venture in, and placed towards the fea muft even prevent the entrance of a fleet The Compte de Wynowitch commands here, and has a little farm at Inkerman, which must have once been a very confiderable and extraordinary town; at present the only remains of it are rooms hewn out of the rock, Here is a large chapel, the pillars and altars of which are extremely curious; the ftone is whitifh, and not unlike marble. I climbed up a ftair-cafe, and crept into and out of very extraordinary spaces large and commodious; I entered at the bottom of these fingular habitations, and like a chimney-sweeper came out at the top; and though it coft me not a little trouble in turning and climbing up fo high, I had no idea I had mounted fo much, till on looking about me I turned quite giddy, in feeing the Bay of Inkerman and all the Black Sea, at least two hundred and fifty feet beneath the place where I ftood Account 79 Account of a French Play called L'Optimifte, or, The Man Content with Every Thing. T HIS Play is the production of M. Collin d'Harleville, who had already given a very favourable fpecimen of his dramatic talents, in a piece. called the Inconftant. The prefent performance has been received with the greatest applaufe on the French ftage, and is founded on a character not unnatural, though, it must be confeffed, if not altogether ideal, yet extremely uncommon. Plinville, the principal perfon of the drama, is a man of a happy temper, and fo much difpofed to be pleafed with every thing, that he finds fources of pleafure and contentment in those disastrous occurrences of life, that overwhelm other people with chagrin and defpondency. His character is contrafted with that of Morinval his friend, a widower, and a fuitor of his daughter Angelica; a man of a morofe and melancholy temperament, on whom the evils of life and the unavoidable calamities that flesh is heir to, have made a deep impreffion. While Plinville intends to give his daughter to Morinval, chance introduces a young man to, him,, named Belfort, whom he retains in his family as a secretary, and approves of his teaching Angelica the English lan guage. Love infenfibly fteals into the heart both of the mafter and fcholar; but both conceal their paffion from each other, and from the family. Madame de Rozelle, a niece of Plinville, extracts the fecret from Belfort, who, moreover, informs her that his real name is Dormeuil, that he is the fon of a foldier of rank, whom an unlucky paffion for play has ruined paft refource; that, obliged to quit the military profeffion, which he himself had embraced, he had changed his name, and was endeavouring to obtain fome honeft employment, when chance threw him in the way of M. Plinville and Angelica. VOL. IX. No 50. L Plinville had left in the hands of one Dorval, a friend of his, at Paris, a hundred thoufand crowns. This Dorval is a gamefter, who lofes his whole fortune at play, together with the money that belonged to Plinville. When the news of this difafter arrives, the man content with every thing begins to make his reflections as ufual, and figures to himfelf the pleasures of an humble ftation, in which he can live retired and happy. His daughter hopes, that this alteration in the cir cumftances of her father will determine Morinval to relinquish his fuit. Though he had behaved to him with civility, and meant in obedience to her father's wishes to become his wife, yet her coldnefs had such an effect on Morinval, who was naturally prone to dif content, that he was just about to refign the hand of Angelica, when the news of her father's misfortune reached him. He immediately refolves not to abandon his friend in adverfity, and perfifts in his addreffes to the daughter. This determines Belfort to quit the place, and he is juft fetting out, when he receives a letter from old Dormeuil, who has fuddenly retrieved his fortune, defiring his fon to meet him inftantly at an inn in the neighbour. hood. While he is abfent, Morinval difcovers that Angelica's affections are fixed on this young man, of whom he has a high opinion; he immediately refigns his own prétenfions, and generously offers to. bestow a great part. of his fortune on Belfort, provided Plinville will confent to his marriage with Angelica. The good man, tranfported with joy and penetrated with gratitude atthis generofity of his friend, runs out to impart the circumftance to his wife, a woman of a peevish, conceited, and obftinate character; but foon returns dejected, owning that a man may be put of humour once in his life. Madame Madame de Plinville, it feems, will not have Belfort for her fon-in-law; he is an adventurer, fhe fays, a man without a name. At this time, Belfort, with his father, appear on the fcene. The latter announces himself as a person who wishes to purchase Plinville's eftate, now to be fold. He gives a fhort hiftory of himself, confeffes that he was once ruined by gaming, but that he has now re-established himself by gaining fix hundred thoufand livres from one Dorval, a gamefter at Paris. "Alas!" cries Madame de Plinville, "that's our money you have gained." "Well," fays the other, " I will give 66 you a hundred thousand crowns for your eftate; the money fhall be yours, and the eftate fhall be your "daughter's, provided you will give her in marriage to my fon." When it is found, that this fon is no other than Belfort, the joy becomes general, gaiety and good humour again take poffeffion of the foul of the optimist, who recapitulates the events of the day, and concludes, that every thing undoubtedly is always ordered for the beft. 66 The following fcene difplays the characters of Plinville and Morinval. ACT III. SCENE 9. M. de Plinville. M. de Morinval, Plinville. AT laft then, you are convinced of Angelica's love, and you will now, I hope, be happy. Morinval. Yes, if fuch a thing as happiness were to be found. P. How! if it were to be found! That's a good jeft indeed. So you are in doubt ftill? M. Yes. P. Don't you love my daughter? P. Does not Angelica love you in return? M. I believe he does. P. You will foon receive her hand and her vows. What would you have more? M. Is happinefs the certain confequence of marriage? P. Ah! my good friend, marriage-M. Marriage I know has its fweets; it scatters a few flowers on the road of life, but under these I defcry cares, and difappointments, and disquiets. P. And why don't you rather endeavour to discover its pleasures and its charms? Think of thofe little prattlers that are to be the pledges of your love. M. Alas! they are unhappy beings to whom I fhall give birth, P. Good. Your children are miferable before they are born, M. I was fo, I have continued fo; God grant that they may meet with a happier fate. But it is impoffible that they fhould efcape forrow; man cries and heds tears at the inftant of his birth. P. These tears are a language; they are not the indication of complaint. M. His infancy is threatened with a thousand diseases: and for two whole years he lies imprisoned in a cradle.— P. The loftieft tree was once but a twig. M. A virulent poifon circulates in his veins, that fooner or latter disfi gures or destroys him. P. But inoculation has been difcovered, and is now generally practifed, M. And has the difeafe difappear fufferings are, in truth, but too often the fruits of our own intemperance. Nature loads us with her gifts, we abuse them all, and then complain of the confequences. M. There may be fome truth in that; but in how many inftances are we not excufable in complaining! For infrance, is it in our power to command wealth? P. No, but the poor man who is content is happier than he who is only rich. Heaven is impartial; the industrious tradefman and the healthy peafant, have their pleasures as well as we, pure pleasures, and fuch as are fuited to their condition. M. You do not allow then, that there exist any real evils? P. Very few.. M. And thofe domeftic enemies, our passions, are, in your opinion, only imaginary evils? P. Ah! that's excellent! You call our paflions enemies. I maintain that without them we should be degraded to a level with the brutes. We muft have paffions; I tell you, we must have paffions they are real bleffings, provided they are directed to proper objects. M. Ay, direct the pafkon of love for inftance! you never P. Why not? have you never felt the fweet fenfation of honourable love? Have you never known the luxury of love returned? Have I could have talked to more purpofe on this fubject when I was five and twenty. Alas! I have paffed that happy period, it is gone never to reBut one bleffing always comes to supply the place of another. I have had my time of love, friendship now confoles me for its lofs, and I thank heaven for yours. turn. colours, I defy you to deck thefe with any impofing attractions. P. To be fure the names are frightful, but the things themselves are very rare. In our days there are very few avaricious people, and of envious perfons, I thank God, I do not know one. Hatred is no very common vice. Ambition, perhaps is rather more frequently met with; but whether it foars to wealth or honours, it is the fault of noble minds, and it is fometimes a virtue rather than a vice. Every thing has its time. Infancy is the feafon of playfulness; youth is devoted to the delights of love, and maturer age to the pleasures of rearing a family. Believe me, Morinval, happinefs is to be found in every period of life. M. You will foon know whether it alfo attends old age. P Undoubtedly it does, my friend. When spent as it ought to be, old age has its innocent pleasures, as well as youth. It is the feafon of repose, and of delightful recollection. I like to view the flow and fedate pace of a venerable old man, his white hairs give me an idea of a patriarch. He is the guide of the young, and he is refpected by them; and when he tells his story every ear is attentive. M. And what happens at last ? P. What happens! why-he finishes his courfe. It is as natural to die, as it is to be born. And as I have lived happy, fo I refolve to continue joyful and contented to my latest moment, and then I shall die without regret. M. Well-It is now my turn to speak and to refute you by a thousand facts. I maintain, that every thing here, every thing by heavens, without exception, whether in the natural or moral world, happens for the worst. Man fuffers at his birth, during the whole period of his life, but especially at the concluding scene. Grief of mind, and pain of body, never fail to L 2 M. You talk of love and friendship; they are not the half of our paffions: Do you think nothing of avarice, of ambition, of envy, or of hatred? You that paint every thing in fuch agreeable torment |